


Daddy's Slut

by PimpDaddyPoof (Loukreswag)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abuse, Alex needs a hug, Child Abuse, Dolley knows nothing, Domestic Violence, Extremely Underage, I'm Going to Hell, Incest, James M is a gift, M/M, Molestation, Pedophilia, Platinum Jail, Rape, Slow Burn, Thomas is overprotective, Underage Sex, and a lawyer, i apologise in advance, no one can tell me otherwise, undercover cop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loukreswag/pseuds/PimpDaddyPoof
Summary: Alexander Hamilton. A daddy's boy, a good listener, and obedient whore.Thomas Jefferson. A lawful man, a good policeman, and justice activist.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This contains almost every tag except for Jail. Thomas comes in the next part and if this isn't your thing please don't read it. This is also the only chapter that'll be in first person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay seriously, this chapter contains the molestation/rape part of a minor. Skip ahead or please leave if you don't like it. 

I wasn't always like this. I used to be...I don't even know what I used to be. I wasn't a happy child, my father beating on my mother every night while me and my brother were either forced to watch from the couch or listen from our bedroom. I can't say I wasn't happy because my mother loved James and I with everything she had and tried her best to show it. But whatever I was before that night, no longer matters.

It was January 13th, 2005,(me turning nine two days before), Mama and I just got back from church and we were about to start making dinner for Daddy when he gets home after taking James over to his friend's house, since James is his favorite anyway. I was pulling out plates and bowls from the cabinets when Mama stopped me. She tapped me on the shoulder and looked me in the eyes, her soft and beautiful brown eyes looking into my ugly mud colored ones, as she took them from me. She smiled at me told me to go wait upstairs with her voice as gentle as it had always been. I didn't want to make anything harder for her since we both knew Daddy was going to come home soon, so I said, "yes ma'am," and went upstairs to my room.

As I went into my room and closed the door behind me. I planned on changing into my pajamas and going to sleep because I rather not hear mother's screaming and father's yelling as he hits her and throws things, breaking them. He doesn't care about me enough to beat me, he nevers hits James and I. He just yells at us and says hurtful things, sometimes threatening to hit mama or let his friends use her while we watch. He's done it before and it still haunts the entire house.

James had a breakdown midway through and threw up and Daddy had his friends stop and leave. James had to skip school for the week following and Daddy disappeared, only sending us gifts as an apology to James.

I pulled on my pajama pants and slid underneath thin cotton sheets. We didn't have enough money to pay for blankets for everyone, so I had to do without them and I honestly didn't mind. I felt Daddy would suffocate me with them if I had one. Closing my eyes, I hear the front door open and slam shut. I start forcing myself to go to sleep because the beating would start soon and so would the screaming. Except for the fact that I didn't hear anything, just a plate scrape once in a while.

I sit up and contemplate going back down there but then I remember Mama told me to come up here. Daddy probably didn't want to see my face today, he always tells me I was an accident, that I was the reason we were poor. They never had enough to pay for another child so they had to stretch the money they had.

Somethings shuffles from downstairs and I actually hear Daddy's voice. He doesn't sound mad at all, just plain. Like he did when he told James he was going out somewhere and he wanted James to make sure me and Mama stayed home. Then Mama starts speaking, voice shaking like she was close to tears.

"James no. I don't want this-" she pleaded but was interrupted by my father responding, "You made your choice. Plain and simple. You didn't want to and I gave you til I got home to change your mind."

It continued on like that but Daddy seemed to be getting louder and louder, like he was when he was angry. He started stomping up the stairs and I could hear Mama scrambling after him, pleading for him to not do anything.

"James, please," she said, "He's just a boy."

"You said you didn't want to so he's going in your place," Daddy growled. He stopped stomping and said something to Mama but I didn't hear what. Next thing I heard was Mama screaming for him to stop and let her go. Then silence. It was a moment or two before I heard a series of thuds going down the stairs and I knew he had pushed her. Wouldn't be the first time.

The house stayed quiet. The only thing I could hear was my breathing as I sat up in the middle of my bed, looking across the room at James' empty one. I sat there, waiting to hear her, hear anything. Unfortunately, all I heard was footsteps coming back up the stairs, ones that were too heavy to be Mama's.

Scared, I flipped on my side and shuffled underneath the bedsheets, shoving my face into the stiff mattress and closing my eyes. I forced my breathing to slow as the door to my bedroom was creaked open, dim lighting flooding the room. Two footsteps before the door is softly pushed closed and I keep my eyes shut, not moving a single muscle. Daddy crept further into the room and stopped.

"Alexander." I don't even flinch. He was calm. There's a dip in the mattress underneath the new weight. I feel his hand grab at my arm as he leaned over my small, sheet-covered frame.

"Alexander," he said shaking me as to wake me from my supposed sleep. I couldn't hold back my whine and I curled away from the touch. Daddy chuckles and lies down behind me. He pulls the sheet down to my shoulder and wraps his arm around my waist.

"Alex, turn around." Knowing I couldn't ignore him anymore, I turn around and look up at him. Daddy was laying there, smiling down at me like I was the best thing to ever happen to him. He pulled me closer and started talking to me, voice nice and warm as he told me how proud he was and how good I was. Having never heard this from him, I soaked in the affection and gentle caresses like a sponge. Daddy never took his eyes off of me as he told me all these things, not for a second. It continued this for a long while until he sat up.

"Daddy?"

He twisted and pulled me out from under the sheets and placed me on his lap, my back to his chest. I felt his fingers run through my hair as he kisses my forehead. The longer I sat there, the more I felt something nudge me from behind. Daddy's breathing was heavier than it was a moment ago but I paid it no mind. Soon, my eyelids began to droop as he massaged my scalp, the action relaxing me steadily.

"Alexander?"

"Yes, Daddy?" His hands dropped from my hair down to my thighs. He squeezed them as he slid them up and down my legs. I felt his breath on the shell of my ear and the back of my neck. He kissed the spot underneath the beginning of my jaw and him bounce me once by thrusting his hips. He pulled away and whispered, voice heavy as he asked me, "Can you take off your clothes for me?"

I turn around and look at him again. He normally asked Mama to do stuff like this for him. Why did he ask me? Then again, he was happy when Mama did it so maybe I should do it. To be on the safe side.

"Okay."

He pushes me off his lap and stands up from the bed. Watching him, I grab the sleeves of my shirt and pull at them, stretching them and lifting the bottom half of the top up. Daddy sighs and grabs my hands, stopping me. I look at him confused. Did he change his mind?

Seeming to read my mind, Daddy smiled and shook his head. "Lex, You're going to ruin your clothes like that. Here, let me." He reached down and shoved his large hands underneath my shirt, freezing digits grazing my lower stomach, causing me to shiver uncomfortably. Pulling up the cloth, he kneels down on the bed in front of me and kissed the newly exposed skin. It felt weird. I've never been touched there, I don't feel like I should be either but I didn't want to upset him. Daddy pulled off the rest of my shirt and put his hands on my shoulders.

"Lay down for me."

Daddy pushed me onto my back and crawled on top of me. He made sure I couldn't move by trapping me between him and the mattress. After he had gotten his clothes off, I began to feel scared. This isn't what he was supposed to do. Was it? He was only supposed to do this with girls, why me?

I felt his hips press into his side and his lips press wet kissed along my throat. Beginning to feel sick to my stomach, I tried to push him off of me. "Daddy, stop. Daddy, stop it." He wasn't listening to me. He just kept rolling his hips against my thighs. I could feel something slide between them, it felt weird. It was hard and wet, long too. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

I felt the kisses go from my chest up to my jaw and I turned my head to get away but he grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at him. He began to move faster and it was enough to get the springs in my bed squeaking. He stared at my lips as he thrusted his hips before swooping down and kissing me. His lips moved forcefully against mine and his tongue slipped into my mouth. A throaty groan slipped from him as he fucked against my small body.

I kept trying to push him off and break the kiss but he wouldn't budge. He kept going to the point I couldn't breathe and every thrust knocked more and more air out of me.

Finally, when he began to struggle for air, Daddy retracted his tongue and sat up. He lifted my hips and placed my legs around his waist, or at least tried to. My knees barely made it past his hips. I watched, gasping for air, as his hand drifted down and out of my view. I began to wonder what he was doing when I felt something prying my cheeks apart and probing my hole.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Baby boy."

The pad of his finger pressed against it and rubbed the rim in circles before the tip of it slipped in. I shook my head and begged breathlessly, "No, stop it." He stopped and looked at me. The way he froze, fingertip still inside me, eyes wide and unblinking, scared me. Then it all happened at once.

His entire hand was shoved inside me and his free hand rose up to slap me hard across the face. I screamed loudly, thrashing in the sheets. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Make it stop, someone please. Help me. Mama, James, somebody! Please!

I felt blood spilling down my body and staining the sheets as his hand scraped me from the inside. It continued like this for sometime. Me screaming and fighting him, Daddy continuing to touch me and make me bleed and slapping me when I wouldn't shut up, No one helping me. Then, he stops. He pulls his hand out of me and wraps it around himself and pumps himself back to hardness. I couldn't move, it hurt too much. He laid back down over me and I felt something else touching my hole. It didn't take me long to figure it out.

Daddy pushed into me with a deep groan as he took my hips in hand in a death grip, the one that was in me bloody as if a dog bit him and never let go. He started to do what he did with his hand, pounding into me at a brutal pace. Just as I was thinking I couldn't scream anymore, I could.

"Daddy! No! Daddy, Stop! It hurts!"

I heard someone else yelling, banging on the door. Mama had woken up. I move towards the door but Daddy pushed me further into the mattress and went harder. I saw blackness clouding my vision and I think he saw them two because he slowed down, not enough to stop but long enough to go harder, and pulled his arm back and slap me.

I tried to stop crying but it just hurt so bad. Mama didn't stop yelling the entire time. She kept beating against the door, trying to get to me but she couldn't. The room smelt bad and it felt hot. I felt his sweat dripping onto me and his skin stick between my thighs. I hated this. I hated this. I wanted him to stop but he wouldn't. I knew he wouldn't.

Long after he finished and left, I just laid there, staring at the ceiling while everything he left in me spilled out onto the sheets beneath. My face was tight were the tears dried and the bruises throbbed. Is this how _Mama felt? Mama. I realized the conversation they had right before he came in and did what he did._

_"James no. I don't want this-"_

_"You made your choice. Plain and simple. You didn't want to and I gave you til I got home to change your mind."_

Mama did this? No, she wouldn't. Mama loved me. I turned on my side and muffled my labored breathing, trying to calm down before I got too loud. Mama loves me, Mama loves me, Mama loves me. I started to feel his touches again, hands roaming my body, so in a desperate attempt to stop them, I got up and ran over to James' bed.

I crawled beneath his blankets and scratched where I felt Daddy's hands. The scratch of my nails and the coolness of my brother's covers helped ebb them away.

I wanted James back. He would always play with me, braid my hair, chase me, color and write with me. He smelt like honey on days we could take a bath. His bed smells the same. Taking his pillow and hugging it against me, I shoved my face in it and breathed him in.

I was nearly asleep when I heard the bedroom door creep open. I tensed up and tried to make myself as small as possible.

"Baby?" Mama called to me softly, like she did when she thought me and James were sleeping. I didn't respond.

I heard her walk over and call again. "Alexander?" She asked before sighing. "There you are."

The bed dipped down as she sat next to me and pulled the blanket from over my head. She splayed her hand over my head and dragged her fingers through my hair. I shuddered and scooted away. I don't want anyone touching me.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry, baby. I really am. Alex, can you forgive me? Please?"

I didn't know. I heard her voice tremble, sweetness wet with near tears.

"Do you think you can forgive Mommy? She didn't mean to hurt you."

I refused to do or say anything and it stayed that way the entire night. Her crying and begging lasted for hours on end.

She didn't leave until we heard the front door downstairs open. Mama got up and left me. Soft murmurs float up and into my room until they stopped. Quick footsteps flew up the stairs and the door closed. I heard a thick thud as heavy breathing filled the room.

Someone laid behind me and pulled me back into a loose but secure hug. The smell of honey overwhelmed me entirely.

"I got you, Lexi. It's gonna be okay." 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't plan on continuing this.

It's been years since then. He never got used to the newfound attention his father gave him. He did, however, learn how to deal with it. As long as Alexander did as told the first time around, he would be fine. It was easy for him to zone out during the foreplay but when he felt his father pushing in, he couldn't stop the tears from falling. After a while, James saw it fit to start giving Alexander away to men in town for some money or just to teach him a lesson.

Rachel talked him into letting the boys go to school. They had the money to afford it now. Alexander's schedule was to wake up, please his father, go to school, go out and make the family money, then head home. James Jr had tried on multiple occasions to beg their father to stop but was turned down every time. He settled for the next best thing which was to comfort his little brother when the boy finally broke down afters days when it was just too much.

"Alexander, wake up. Breakfast," James whispered, shaking the teenager in question. The younger Hamilton boy rolled over and pulled his pillow close to his chest. He had actual blankets and softer pillows now so it made it so much harder for him to get up and face the day. His response urged his brother to try again, this time, with more violent approach.

James walked backwards from the bed and towards the door, stopping when he felt the cool knob against his back. Counting down from fifteen, he watched as his brother's breathing even out again before kicking off the door and launching himself into the air, gravity coming into effect and slamming him down on the other's body. "Wake up!"

Alexander shot up with a screech and kicked James off of him. The older boy was too busy laughing to really feel the ache in his ribs from where he was kicked. "Dammit, James! I was sleeping."

"That was the problem. It's Friday and you have that big test today, remember?" James reminded him, sitting up from his spot on the floor. "Dad left for work so you can study before you head off." Alexander was both elated and filled with dread. With his father gone, he had more time to clean himself up and do his homework. But the work his father did, gambling and finding possible customers meant he'd make the time up after school.

He nodded and scratched his head, getting out of bed and headed over to his dresser. "Thanks for the heads up," Alexander said. He pulled out a plain white tee-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It was easier to put on and off when he's working. He'd rather not lengthen the process. James ruffled his hair and went downstairs to start on breakfast.

Using cold water and his watermelon body wash, Alexander cleaned himself and scrubbed hard enough it burned. He wanted all the dirt out and off of his body. He got out, walked over to the sink, brushed his teeth and went on to dress himself. By the time he was done, James came back upstairs and opened the door. "If you're not up, Alexander, I'm gonna get the knife and start cutting up your stuffed animals."

"You leave Franklin and Washington alone. What did they ever do you?"

" _Exist_ ," he deadpanned. Alexander gasped and had a look of betrayal in his eyes. "How could you?"

"Who the hell keeps a bear with no eyes and one ear and an arm less octopus?"

"I do now fuck off."

The boys make their way downstairs and eat breakfast. They were used to their mother and father being there with them. Their father always wanted it quiet and when Alexander or his mother finished, they would have to go under the table and you know the rest. So the boys had kept the habit of no table talk while eating. The sound of metal scraping the porcelain plates was the only thing to be heard between the two boys until they were finished.

James went into the kitchen to wash the dishes and Alexander went into the living room. They had a small television. It wasn't a box or anything like that, it was a small flat screen and they had basic channels. Kid shows, game shows, sports etc. Alexander and his mother held the news in high regard. When he was five, he had gotten his two stuffed toys but didn't know what to name them. Until he saw Senator Washington and Governor Franklin on the screen discussing something to the public.

The News today was just weather and local news. Nothing big going on in the capital, he guessed. It was expected to rain all week with winds up to 65 and the bakery two streets down got robbed and burned last night. Now, onto Trigonometry. It was 27 and 39 with a hypotenuse of 47.4 and yes, he could show his work.

He heard James bust out laughing in the kitchen. When he asked why, James responded with, "You were talking out loud." Oh. Glancing at the clock, Alexander began packing his things for school when a knock came at the front door. "I'll get it," he called. He opened the door and was greeted by two women with baskets. One had a basket of soaps and the other with small snacks. The both looked generally the same.

The taller woman smiled and looked over Alexander's shoulder into the house. "Hello, is his the home of Ms. Buck?" She asked. He could that she was trying to see what a mess the house was in but he refused to let her. Alexander straightened up to his full height, still an inch too short to completely block her view into the house but close enough. "Yes. What is it that you want?" He growled.

This time, it's the short woman who pipes up. "Well, we heard she was feeling a little ill and wanted to bring her these. Can you go fetch her please?" Fetch her? The way she asked it made his mother sound like a weak puppy or an inconvenient child. Alexander stood there, glancing between the two. They seemed a bit eager to talk to his mother and that set a bad feeling in his gut.

"I'm sorry but my mother isn't here right now. She's out at the community garden to get some things for dinner," he excuses, reaching out and grabbing both baskets. "I'll be sure to tell her you dropped by to give her these. Thank you, have a nice day." He kicked the door shut and dropped the baskets on the ground.

James came around the corner, drying his hands with a towel. He leaned against the door frame and looked at his brother. "Who was it?"

"The town crows. They came here to see Mama," He said. The other's face fell and he tossed the towel on the coffee table. James turned around and went back into the kitchen and came back with his old lunchbox.

"Ignore them, Lex," he advised, handing the box over and taking the baskets. "They don't know nothing. I made you lunch today and I expect you to actually eat it." He smiled and began his trek to their mother's room.

"They don't know _anything_."

James stopped and looked over at Alexander. He stared at him while the other stared at the lunchbox. The small comic superheroes fighting the villain with all their powers glistened with what was left of their old metallic paint. "What?"

"They don't know anything. You said that they don't know nothing, which is a double negative. Double negatives aren't really encouraged by the English language."

"Good thing to know. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

 

 

 

"James, you are blowing this way out of proportion," Thomas called, running after his partner. James had been freaking out about a call he had gotten in the middle of the night from a what sounded like a young man. There was screaming in the background and the boy had hung up in a hurry. He knew it was an out-of-state number by instinct but to make sure, he traced it and the number didn't belong to anyone in Virginia. Matter of fact, it wasn't even in the United States. It was over in the Caribbean.

James shook his head and kept racing around the room, collecting things to put in his suitcase. "No, I'm not. That boy called me in distress so I'm going to go help him."

"Let their police handle this. Your loyalty is to the people of Virginia, not whoever that kid was."

"How do we know if the police got involved or if that boy even called the police?"

"He could've been at a party."

"He could have been at a club where things went down that weren't supposed too."

"He's probably at home, safe."

"Or _dead_ in a ditch," James hissed, shoving the last pair of pants inside, zipping the case closed. "Thomas, I just want to make sure he was okay." The way the boy sounded, he was afraid. The fighting in the back sounded awfully close to him as well.

Thomas groaned and grabbed the suitcase and opened it. "James. You can't get involved. Think about how much trouble you could get in."

James snatched it back and closed it. "None because you're not telling anyone what I'm doing. As far as Adams knows, I'm on vacation," he dismissed, picking up his luggage and heading out of the bedroom. Thomas followed behind and tried to talk some sense into him.

"Adams has his ways of finding the truth. You can't go over there with nothing to go on about the situation. You need to think about this," he urged. He watched helplessly as James plucked the keys from his counter and made his way out the house and to his car. By now he knew talking his friend out of this wasn't possible. Thomas could not help but worry about his friend. James was short and sickly. It could be too hot for him and he could have a heat stroke. He could have a spontaneous seizure and no one would know what to do for him. The chances of James be okay in the Caribbean alone grew slimmer and slimmer the more scenarios popped up into Thomas' mind.

"Did you at least pack sunscreen? You know how sensitive your skin is!"

"Thomas!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend talked me into continuing.  
> Warnings: Vague Smut??? And Domestic Violence

Needless to say, Thomas ended up packing his own stuff and meeting James at the airport. The flight took off at noon and he got there with fifteen minutes to spare.

"I'll be at the Starbucks with food from McDonald's if you need me," James had said when Thomas told him of his last minute mind change. Sure enough, Thomas went to the Starbucks and James was snacking on a Big Mac and large fries. Dolley has driven this man to fast food sin with diets and salads. Something about setting a good example for her son, John.

James saw the look in his friend's eyes and dropped the half-eaten burger. "Please don't tell her. She'll put me on a juice cleanse and double exercise for week," he begged. Thomas smirked and made a small whipping motion, holding a finger to his lips. He sat down and stole a few of the fries much to the other's dismay.

"Come on, Jemmy. You know I'll never do that to you. Most because you'll make me do it as well but," he shrugged. "Whatever." He sat there and waited until his friend finished his food and got up. "Let's go," he said the same time as the announcement was made for all passengers to board their flights.

Alexander let the man push his head down further. Breathe in through his nose, hold it for ten seconds, exhale and inhale quickly, and repeat. He kept this up for another minute before the man fastened his place, throwing him off the pattern. As a result, Alexander choked and gagged, unintentionally encouraging the other to go faster.

"Fuck....."

There it is. It's almost over. Just hold on for a little longer. He dug his fingers into the man's hips and let his tears fall, loosening his throat. A few pumps later and the man came down his throat. Alexander swallowed and waited for him to pull out. It didn't take long because a knock at the door alerted the customer his time was up. They usually finish before the wife gets home but today just wasn't his day. He allowed himself to be pushed away and stood shaking to his feet.

"Here," the man growled, shoving a bill into his chest. "100. Like we agreed. Now get out before she uses her key."

Alexander nodded and took the money, shoving on his clothes and jumping out through the bedroom window. He heard a rustling off to his left and smiled. Squatting down, he held out his hand and made a small chittering noise. A Rottweiler puppy trotted out from the bushes and rolled into her stomach.

"Hey, Roxy," he cooed, rubbing her belly. She always greets him when he leaves the house. She absolutely loves him after he gave her the last of his sandwich the first time he came around. Her mother died a few weeks back after getting out of the backyard and hit by a truck.

Roxy rolled back onto her paws and jumped onto the boy, licking his face and wagging her tail. Alexander stifled his laughter and gently pushed her off. She began to whine until he put a finger to his lips and reached for his bag. Keeping his eyes on her to make sure she wouldn't do anything, he whipped out his brother's lunchbox and pulled out the sandwich James made for him. "Here you go, girl." She sniffed at it and pulled it from his hands. Laying down, the puppy tore into the sandwich and finished it rather quickly. Alexander rubbed top of her head before getting up to leave.

He didn't count the money until he got home. The light in the upstairs bedroom was on so his brother must've gotten home early. If his brother was in their room then their parents were fighting again. Alexander adjusted his backpack and tried to fix himself so he looked more presentable.

Walking up to the door, Alexander opened the door. He could hear both of the adults yelling at each other, Rachel still asking for James to leave Alexander alone and James telling her to shut up and mind her business. He swung the front door open and didn't flinch when the hinges let out a loud screech. The noise interrupted the arguing and Alexander knew he heard another door open upstairs.

His mother turned and looked at him, a smile on her face as if nothing was wrong. "Hey, Alexander. How was school?" She asked, walking up to him and kissing his forehead. He hugged her and kicked the door closed. She smelt nice today, like peaches. "It was fine, Mama. I aced my test and turned in my essay."

Rachel cheered softly and hugged him tight. "Oh, that's my baby. Did anyone mess with you?" He noticed she was slowly edging him towards the staircase and the light shining on the steps. If she accomplished what she was trying to, Alexander would get to his brother and it'll be good for the night. Unfortunately, James noticed it too.

"Alexander, Come here." The man sat down on the recliner and waved his son over. Knowing better than to fight it, Alexander did as told. He pulled off his backpack and reached in for the money. It was all there. Tugging it all out, he threw the bag at the wall and handed the wad of cash to his father. James slowly counted the bills, the boy standing there and watching, before looking at him with bored eyes. "You're 200 short."

"Ricky wasn't home today. I went back 'round twice. He still wasn't home."

"Did you knock?"

"I did. Then I used my key and checked in the inside. Nothing was touched."

"How are you going to make this up?"

"I'll try to-"

Rachel stepped in and reached for Alexander. Before she could, James shot up and yanked the boy behind him. "Rachel," he warned. She shook her head and tried to work her way around him to her son, James blocking her move for move.

"Alexander, you don't have to do this. It'll be fine. I could work over time and ask for a raise." She was trying to negotiate. Alexander could tell where this was going and tried not to cry. Every now and again his mother would get herself all worked up and she'd pass out. Her heart wasn't what it used to be after she had gotten sick.

James swung and punched his wife square in the jaw, causing her to bite her tongue and inside of her mouth. "Shut the hell up!" He fell on top of her and kept throwing punches. She tried to cover her face but he trapped her arms under his legs. "Always interfering with shit. Can't leave it the fuck alone, can you?"

Alexander saw the blood spilling and slipping down her face. "Dad, stop! She's hurt!" He screamed, running over and trying to drag him off. He turned towards the staircase to see his brother jump down the last few steps and run over. Together, they pulled their father from on top of their mother.

Rachel was knocked out cold and breathing heavy, her body twitching just a little. This isn't the worst beating she's gotten but it wasn't the best either. Alexander held back their father while James knelt down and wiped the blood off of her face with his shirt. Their father spat at her, saliva landing a few inches away. James sighed and flipped him off. "Fuck you. Why do you do this? She's just trying to take care of us!" He croaked, anger evident in his voice. He tossed the shirt in the corner of the room and lifted her up into his arms.

"She's meddling with my business," the man corrected, wrapping an arm around Alexander's waist, fingers slipping below the pants line. The teenager felt sick and wanted nothing but to shove him away. "Is she going to be okay?" His brother shrugged and left the room.

"Go to my room and get ready for me."

Thomas hated airplanes. He really did. Giant metal demon birds that could catch fire and crash into the ocean. So imagine the pure joy he felt when the plane landed and he was in Nevis. He was literally the first one off of the plane and went straight to baggage claim. He waited five minutes and got his bag and stayed for James. It took the other another ten minutes before he arrived and got his luggage.

"Tell me why you decided to come all this way again," Thomas demanded as they went through security. He almost wanted to flash his badge but remembered he didn't bring it. Martha and Eston sometimes went through his stuff when he wasn't home and he had told them he wasn't going to take work with him on the trip.

James smiled and let the woman pat him down. "I wanted to make sure the civilian was safe and alive." The security let them through and James went out to the rental car area. He had called ahead of time and gotten a Mercedes-Benz. Wanted to flaunt his money just a bit. The valet held out the car keys for him and nodded her head. "Thanks for choosing Marley's Rental Company," she said and left.

"Really James?"

"Would you prefer an SUV where I could accidentally run over people due to the various blind spots and my unfamiliarity with the area?" James quipped, unlocking the car and tossing his belongings in the back. Thomas did the same and slid in the passenger seat. "No, but seriously? A Mercedes?"

James ignored him and started the ignition. They took off in and town and looked around. The place didn't look half bad, large buildings and lots of people. It was really beautiful to be honest, doesn't seem like the type of place for whatever that boy went through. Downtown was a completely different story.  It was old and run down with small groups of people laughing and standing outside. It definitely looked like a place for something bad to happen. 

James slowed down in front of shop close to a street corner and parked. He shoved the keys into his pocket and turned to Thomas. "Look, I'm going in there and ask if anyone would know who's phone number this is," he said pointing to his recent calls list. Underneath Dolley's twelve missed calls, there was the contact Stranger. "I need you to come in with me and but somethings that we can take back as souvenirs." He didn't really give Thomas a choice and hopped out.

Thomas watched him walk in, contemplating whether or not to enable James in his plan. Groaning, he climbed out and slammed the door shut. He felt people across the street staring into his back as he strode inside.

There was watches, keys, jewelery, cellphones, and electronics galor. The fact that there was a Rolex in this part of the city shocked Thomas. He glanced to see James on his way to the counter where a very large man was cleaning a very small bracelet. Deciding his partner had this handled, he went over to the Rolex and started playing with it, setting it four hours back.

Coming up to the counter, James pulled out his phone and have a curt nod. "Hello, sir." The man looked up and his name tag said Ernesto. He looked up at the newcomer and hummed. "Hey. Can I help you?"

James up his phone and pointed to the stranger's phone number. "Does this number look familiar to you?"

The man nodded and put down the bracelet. "Yeah, that's umm, James' boy. The little one."

So there's more than one son and the youngest was old enough to operate a phone.

"James?"

"Yeah, James Hamilton. Lives a few blocks away from here."

"What about his son?"

"Oh. New around here?"

Oops. Slowly putting his phone down, James nodded and clasped his hands together. "I'm on vacation and my wife-"

Ernesto chuckled and held up his hand. "No need to continue. You're looking for a little thing to help you..relax. Trust me, that boy is the perfect thing to help you unwind."

James forced a smug look on his face even though he felt bile rise in his throat. There was no other way to take what the man said. "So, where exactly would I be able to find this boy?"

"Normally in school at this time but if you ask the woman at the front desk she'll let you take him out early. They don't care who you are," Ernesto informed, picking the bracelet back up to finish his job. "I never thought James would take his boy out of town."

"Well, people surprise you," James murmured and left the store. He turned to see Thomas walking in his direction with a bag of chips and a coconut soda. The tall Virginian took a quick sip and held out the bottle. "Want some?"

James shook his head and got into the car. "I just found out who the boy is, well, sort of. He lives not too far from here."

"We should check in to the hotel and look for him tomorrow," Thomas said, leaving no room for argument. They've been up through the entire flight and most of the day. He hasn't had a real meal and he wants to lay in a bed and sleep. They'll find the mystery kid, make sure he's okay, then go back home.

 


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smut

 

Alexander's body hurt so bad. His father had been so pissed he dipped into sadistic pool. James had tied Alexander up and brought out a paddle. The rope was smoothed out so it didn't really burn him as much as forced his feet into a prolonged position that was uncomfortable. He relaxed and took the beating without batting an eyelash, he could take it. Alexander focused on the important things like checking up on Mama once it was all over. James had slipped underneath his son and the boy knew what to do. He forced himself to lower onto the man's cock and ride him good and hard until he came and went to sleep. 

 

When it was all over, Alexander spent his time clawing off the ties. He hated the smoother rope because it was harder to find the loose spots. He got then off and tiptoed out of the room. Glancing at the clock on the wall, it was early in the morning so he could eat breakfast, visit Mama, and get out of the house. He and his brother at least. James Jr never wanted Alexander by himself with his thoughts for long. He knew what kind of things sunk in when the boy is by himself. 

Rachel's room was not far from where the kitchen was. A right turn and there it is. Her lock was removed after she had locked both her sons in there in hopes of keeping her husband away from them. 

Knocking gently, Alexander waited for a soft come in before stepping into the room. James was waiting for him with a black shirt, white boxers, and grey jeans, blocking his view of their mother and her view of him. Thankful, the younger took the clothes and slipped them on. His brother moved out of the way and let Alexander sit on the bed next to Rachel. 

"Ma?" He whispered. His mother opened her eyes and sat up. 

"Hey, baby," she cooed, reaching out and brushing his hair out of his face. She always said he was too beautiful to hide his face. Alexander turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. He held hers with his own and put them in his lap. "How are you doing?" 

"I should be the one asking that." 

"Answer me, Alexander."

The teen sighed and kicked his feet. "I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle," he reassured. He looked up and gave his mother a look. "Now what about you?"

"Same as you." 

Alexander ran his thumb over her knuckles. "It's Saturday. I have to work." 

"So do I."

"Want me to pick up anything for dinner?"

"Just the usual. Call your brother if you need help." 

"Yes ma'am." 

 

 

 

"Alright, so the kid is a prostitute," Thomas summarized, tossing his word puzzle on the desk beside him. James was pacing the room and counting everything he found out about the stranger. All they had was a relative location, a phone number, and a name of his parent who most likely doubles as his pimp. "Now what do you do? Go around, knocking door to door asking for him?" 

James groaned and sat down on his bed. He didn't get any sleep last night. Dolley had called and asked how everything went, was he okay, was he taking his medication, then she went on the talk about her day which was a delightful getaway from the mess James knows for sure he's about to cannonball into. She took the kids to an amusement park, swimming, and out for ice cream. Funny how he's down here trying to help someone and all he can think about is how sweet his wife is. 

Snapping fingers shocked him from his little mind slip. "Wait what?" He asked. Thomas stood in front of him with his arms crossed. "James, you said you wanted to make sure that the boy was alive. Well, he is," he confirmed. He sat down on his bed in front of the other and held his gaze. "I know you enough to tell when you're not going to let this go. You found he's alive but in horrible circumstance." 

James nodded slowly and straightened his posture. "We can't leave him like this, Thomas. He needs help," he said. He has seen enough to know that no one grows up thinking or dreaming about living the life of a prostitute. They always dream big and life brings them down and it hurts having to watch someone lose their ambition. That's why he does what he does, and is doing what he's doing. Thomas just doesn't get that. 

"But not ours," the taller protested. They don't even know this kid personally and James is already risking his neck for him. They're lying to their boss, taking up an international case that hasn't even been filed, and could die because they don't know anything. 

"Then mine. Thomas, if you do not want to help that's fine. I'll figure it out on my own," James persisted, getting up and grabbing his coat. "If you need me, I'll be out looking for his father." Before Thomas could open his mouth to respond, the room door was both opened then slammed shut. 

 

 

Alexander whined in discomfort and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. He hated coming around this part of the neighborhood. The guys here never prep him enough and rarely use lubricants or condoms but they always make sure to be ten dollars short of their payment. Oh, they'll give him the money next time. The man fucking him now owes him near one hundred. He always has the client's name to charge later because they want him screaming their name to fuel their steroid-pumped egos. 

Clenching around the man's length, Alexander threw out a high-pitched mewl of Benny, getting the man to go faster and to tighten his grip. Faster he goes, faster this is over. That's his motivation is. Get to as many customers as he can and get his money. He learned the hard way not to spend too much time on one person. 

Benny groaned and put more force into his thrusts, pushing the boy further onto the bed. "Shit, shit, shit....say it again," he commanded, eyes watering as he felt himself grow closer to his climax. Alexander began throwing himself back onto the impaling cock, hoping it'll work. 

"Benny. Benny, please." 

It was as if floodgates were open, the client spilled inside of him with a shout. He was breathing heavy and his grip on the other's hips was still fierce. A minute or two later, he let go and slipped out of Alexander and laid down. "Sorry," he mumbled.

The boy sat up and stared down at him. "For what?" He asked, rubbing his hips where there were sure to be bruises. This was new to him but he wasn't shocked. Benny may be aggressive in the physical sense but he was a real sweetheart. The man gestured to nearly all of Alexander. "Tonight." 

Alexander patted his shoulder and stood up. "You didn't hurt me that bad," he mumbled, rubbing his back. "I'll be fine." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

Benny sighed and stretched his arms above his head. "If you say so. How much do I need to pay you this time?" 

"Fifty," Alexander answered, pulling on his underwear. He could feel the other staring at his ass and this is probably the only time he'll say he likes the attention. He turned around and reached his hand out for his shirt, which Benny hands him along with 200. "What's this?"

"The money I owed you and a tip." 

"Tip for what?" 

"Being cute." 

"Benny," He warned, raising an eyebrow. If it was just money he needs to pay, then he only needed 150 dollars. "What is this extra fifty really for?" The man didn't respond and grabbed Alexander's pants and hand them to the boy. 

 

It had started raining when Alexander walked out the apartment. He didn't bring a umbrella because it was extremely warm today and the sun was out. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. Might as well run home, except he can't because his legs hurt. A very fast paced walk then. Alexander sighed and took off, ignoring the irritation of his lower half. 

It was several blocks later that he saw a bus stop bench with a booth cover over it. Not wanting to get any more soaked, Alexander ran underneath the awning and sat down. He could feel the rain slipping from his hair, down his back. 

"James, come. Pick up, pick up, pick up," Thomas urged into the receiver. Ever since James left the hotel room that morning, Thomas has tried to get in contact with him through call, text, and email. Now, he's out walking in the rain, carrying an umbrella and searching on foot. He hasn't given up on the call option. Maybe if he called enough times, his friend will pick up and tell him where he is. The voicemail started repeating itself for the...whateverth time this is. The woman's voice was annoying so in the spirit of spite and needing something to take his aggravation out on, he ended the call and pretended to chuck it in the street before shoving it deep in his pocket. 

"Are you okay?" 

Thomas drifted his eyes to his left to see a small and very concerned boy sitting at a bus stop. He looked old enough to drive and his hair was matted down to his face and scalp. A quick glance up at the awning, Thomas decided it would better serve him to sit under there too so he wouldn't bother his wrist but he didn't want to because he had a mini-tantrum a few seconds ago and he didn't want to make it anymore awkward. Yet again, if he stands there under an umbrella instead of using his logic and sitting down, it'll make it even more awkward. 

"If you're drunk, I just want to say that it's safer to ride the bus," the boy called. "You look like you have a lot of money and there's some people down the street," he literally turned and pointed behind Thomas, "who love robbing people and I don't want that to happen." 

Thomas picked his poison and sat down. 

Shaking off the water from his umbrella, the Virginian gave the stranger a quick smile and leaned it against his knees.  "So what are you in for?" 

The boy huffed in amusement and scratched his head. "That sounded like something people ask in prison," he hummed. Thomas kept the smile on and relaxed. This kid seemed alright. 

Alexander crossed his legs and tapped his fingers in his knees. This man didn't seem drunk like he had previously thought. Alcohol wasn't lacing his breath and slurring his words. He seemed safe. "To answer your question, I forgot to grab an umbrella when I left home this morning. You?" 

"Lost my friend. He isn't quite familiar with this area and I was worried about him." 

"So you're tourists?"

"Yeah." 

"Then why are you around here?"

"I couldn't find him. He's been gone long enough he might be this far," Thomas confessed, eyes downcast. He hadn't meant to upset the other Virginian but he was being sensible. Why couldn't James be happy with the fact that the kid was alive? They could turn this unnecessary rescue mission into a real and enjoyable vacation. They've been here for two days now and all they have been doing was asking around for a James Hamilton and lying through their teeth to their families.

The boy frowned. "Have you considered that he went back to your hotel?" he asked.

Thomas thought for a moment. He's been out all day and did not think to go back. "I have not."

Alexander smiled at the man and shook his head. "Well, you're in luck. The bus that comes here goes into the city. You should get to your hotel before dark," he predicted. The man opened his mouth to say something but the bus turned the corner and came up to them.

Thomas got up and stepped on, seeing no one else on the bus, turning around to make some quip about the amount of people present being his ambition to succeed in life but the boy wasn't there. The bus had started to move and he quickly glanced out the window.

Alexander held up the man's umbrella and tried to signal the driver to stop but it was too late. He tucked the umbrella under his arm and settled for waving the stranger goodbye.

 


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this seems a little bad. I tried to post it before but my home shut off and it didn't save so this is like the third revision.  
> Warnings: Gun Violence

Long story short, Alexander used the umbrella. 

He will admit he was taken by surprise when he first opened it. The umbrella was a dark magenta and he did feel a little special when the sun hit it just right and lit up the sidewalk as he walked. 

Most of the journey home was rather uneventful other than that and a few barks from Roxy. 

"I'm home!" Alexander called shaking the wet droplets from his hair and the stranger's magic umbrella. Putting the umbrella down on the kitchen counter, Alexander listened as footsteps thumped against the stairs. James jumped down at last two steps, grabbed his little brother by the wrist and dragged him upstairs.

Alexander stared at him confused but compliant. James only acted like this when their father was drunk but the man was nowhere in sight. Matter of fact, his car wasn't even in the driveway when he got home.

"James? Where's Papa?" He asked.

"Out on date night with Ma. He basically forced her to," his brother spat. "Probably took her out to his usual betting place." James had this crazed look in his eyes, like he was both scared and determined. It didn't make any sense. 

"Then why are we up here? We can go watch TV without him bothering us." 

James sighed and turned around. "Alexander, he took the money you gave him." He broke the news in a soft voice, not wanting to upset his brother too much because they needed to move and fast. 

Alexander forced them to a stop. "What?" He whispered. "We need that for rent." The Hamiltons were weeks behind on their rent payments and the landlord was getting restless. Alexander knew what his father would resort to if the man demanded payment. The boy felt his eyes water. 

James frowned and hugged him briefly before taking him by the hand and dragging him. "I know, Lex, and the reason we're up here is that he got Ernesto watching us," he informed.

He led him to their bedroom and shut the door behind them. He waited a second and shoved a chair from their shared desk underneath the knob. The feeling of dread finally sinking in.

"Get in my bed and under the covers. Now," The elder said, leaving no room for argument. Alexander crawled into the bed and tried not to inhale the deep scent of honey. 

He heard the sound of James' laptop turning on and the clicking of the keyboard. A minute later, Alexander peeked through the sheets just in time to hear the front door burst open and the sounds of multiple voices float through the house. He and James caught each other's eyes and Alexander whimpered. 

James was the first to speak. "He wasn't supposed to bring friends," he whispered, shutting his laptop and standing up. As he crept towards the door, the voices grew louder. Alexander sat up. "James?" 

James held his fingers up to his lips and gestured for the younger boy to get back under the covers, which he did. Boots thundered up the stairs and there was a rough knocking at the door. 

"Come on out, Princess. Your daddy left me in charge and I just wanna have a little fun tonight with the guys," Ernesto called from behind the wood. The brothers could hear the other guys chuckling and groaning. Alexander wanted to throw up. 

"I'm sorry, Nest, but Alex isn't home yet. He's still out for groceries," He lied, eyes focused on the door. Alexander wanted to slap himself. He had forgotten to buy him and James some dinner while he was out and now they were stuck here with no food. He cast an apologetic look to his brother but James waved him off. As long as his little brother was fine, James didn't care. 

The doorknob jiggled. "So all this water on the stairs came from you?" Ernesto scoffed. James hesitated. 

"Yes," he croaked, face scrunching up when he realized how it obviously sounded like a lie. Unfortunately, the grown men behind the door didn't buy into it either. Ernesto threw his body against the door, somehow having enough force to knock down the chair. 

Alexander whined and burrowed himself further into the covers. How the hell did the man do this? It's not possible for him to be that strong, can it? The screaming of the hinges as he continued to slam himself into the door. 

James pressed his back to door, hoping, praying that it was enough. It was too much. "Go away!" He shouted.

The honey smell was suffocating Alexander, he tried to breathe deeper but he was freaking out too much to actually let his lungs get the air before he was breathing out. 

The hinges cracked loudly as the door swung open, Ernesto and two other guys coming into the room. James leapt for the bed immediately but was snatched midair and thrown against the opposite wall. 

Alexander shot up and kicked the blankets off of his legs, crawling to the edge of the bed in an attempt to help his brother. "James!" He cried. One of the guys went to grab him but he rolled over to the other side and fell to the ground. The teen slid under the bed and curled up, whimpering when arms swooped in after him. 

A hand wrapped around his ankle and began pulling Alexander out and dug nails into the meat. With a shout, he turned and scratched at the skin, cutting both himself and the attacker. A hiss and the hand was gone. 

"He fucking scratched me!" 

"That's it." 

Alexander hears a belt unbuckle and a click, shortly followed by two loud bangs. James screamed and a part of Alexander urged to go out and help him but he knew it would make things worse. The hands were back again but this time they managed to grab a hold of his hair. 

"Let go!" He begged, trying desperately to pull away. The men were laughing, laughing. This was all a game to them. It was always. 

Eventually they got him out from underneath the bed and threw him next to his brother. James had his hand against a wound in his right shoulder, blood flowing through his fingers and on the floor beneath him. He was crying and coughing at the same time. Alexander felt his world crumbling around him and stood up quickly. 

Turning to run and get help, Alexander found himself cornered by the three men. They made sure there was no way for him to get out even when he tried to push past them. Ernesto picked him up and slammed the back of his head against the wall once, pressing down. 

"He's hurt, please!" The teen pleaded, voice cracking and laced with concern. There were dots in his vision but he ignored it. James was his priority, not himself. 

Ernesto glared and pressed harder, igniting a hard-pounding headache. "Oh, you don't think that I know that, tu pequeño coño?" He accused, leaning in and pressing his body closer. "That was the fucking point." He snapped his fingers and one of his friends pulled out the gun and pointed it at James' head. 

Alexander suddenly found the strength he needed and kicked the man in the stomach, sending Ernesto to the ground, running over to the one with the weapon, and yanking it out of his hand. He stumbled back and stood in front of brother's body, holding up the gun. 

The men looked at each other and back at him. The one on the far right broke out into a smile and held his hand out. It was bleeding a bit so he must have been the one who grabbed him earlier. "Come on," he said. "You don't know how to use that thing, it's way too heavy for you. You're not used to it. Hand it over and I'm sure there's a way for you to compensate for this little mess." 

Alexander kept firm and locked then unlocked the safety. He pointed the barrel down and shot a warning shot at their feet. He saw them flinch and cast a quick glance at James and noted he was still semi-conscious. 

"Alexander, what would your father think?" 

"Get out." 

"Alex-"

"I said get out!" 

 

"Where the hell have you been?" 

Thomas tossed off his coat and stared at James, who was fuming in the middle of the suite. The man had the nerve to glare at him as if Thomas was the one who stormed off without a goddamn trace. Taking a simple step forward and a moment of processing, The taller of the two narrowed his eyes. 

"Where have I been? Where have you been? You left me, James! You did not answer the phone when I called, took the car so I had to walk around looking for a dumb Mercedes," Thomas listed, reaching out next to him and snatching a hairband off the Television stand. He pulled his hair up into a bun in hopes that the rain droplets trapped in his curls wouldn't drip down his back. "Oh! Let's not forget that I look like a damn sugar daddy so I could've gotten fucking mugged!"

"Don't give yourself so much credit, Thomas. You know you're not hot enough to be a sugar daddy, let alone any daddy," James dryly. He forced himself to calm down because getting himself worked up would only get his friend more aggressive. They've gotten into physical fights before and nothing goes good for either parties. 

"James, I will shoot you, chop off your fingers, and send them back to Dolley in a napkin." 

"Is that a threat of a US officer?" 

"Not if I go through with it." 

James couldn't fight the smile and sat down, patting the space next to him. Hesitantly, Thomas sat next to him and waited. 

"Good news, I got the boy's address," James said, picking up the television remote and turning it on to see Amazing World of Gumball. He went to turn it but Thomas stopped him. 

"How did you get it, Jem?" He asked, eyes still focused on the screen. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but Thomas loves the show more than his kids do and forces them to watch it with him so he doesn't look too childish. 

James leaned back and popped his knuckles. "I asked that Ernesto guy. He was in a rush so I'm not sure why. He wrote it down on this little sheet," he said, reaching in his back pocket and pulled out a folded up sticky note. "He said I could go by anytime but I'm not sure if I'm ready." 

Thomas turned to the man with a look of disgust. "You're not ready? James, why in the world would you think that?" 

"He's a prostitute. It's nighttime. What would be happening right now?" 

"The thing you need to save him from. He needs you and it's pretty fucking obvious that no one else is willing to help him," Thomas stood up and grabbed his coat again and shoved it onto his friend. James makes some noise in the back of his throat as he was being pulled up and pushed towards the door.

"Thomas!" 

"What?" The two stared at each other for a moment. The sounds of cars going by and loud sirens filling the silence. 

"Come with me." 

Thomas' mouth set in a straight line. He nodded slowly and stepped out of the hotel room, the door clicking shut behind him. "Sure but I want McDonald's on the way back." 

"I don't think there's a McDonald's nearby," James informed. 

"This island is hell on waves," Thomas mumbled. He shoved his hands in his pocket and forced himself to think of something else. He felt his cheeks heat up when a flash of that boy from the bus stop came to mind. 

Mentally stabbing himself, Thomas forced the kid from his mind. He was 27 years old, he could not be thinking of teenager like this.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Gun Threats/Abuse/Vague Rape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Y'all, I've been working on this for a while but I r e a l l y have been busting my butt for this two days straight to give it to you. That's why I made it extra long hopefully to make up for the time I lost.

The Virginians pulled up to the house just in time for the ambulance to pull off and leave a small boy crying on the steps with his front covered in blood. James was the first one out of the car and running to the child and Thomas stayed in the passenger seat, shocked. It was the same boy that was at the bus stop earlier this afternoon. Why the hell did he have a gun?

Alexander's body was wracking with gross sobs, voice raw and face a mess of blood, snot, and tears. He had called the hospital and reported that his brother had hurt himself. It was better that he didn't mention what really happened tonight. He and James would have been taken away to some horrible place and be separated. The paramedics got there quick, patched James up, and took him off. They wouldn't allow Alexander in the back in case their parents came home and assumed the worst.

Now, he was stuck at home, crying, not knowing what was happening and scared of what was going to happen when his father finds out. James was hurt because of Alexander and if he dies.... Who knows what'll his will do to him and their mother.

The sound of a car door slamming and fast footsteps shook the teen out of his mind and into defense. Picking up the gun, Alexander clicked off the safety and held the barrel in the direction of the person. He knew it wasn't his father. He hasn't called him yet to tell him. "Go away!" He shouted.

"Whoa, wait a minute. I'm not here to hurt you," a deep voice said. Alexander slowly put the gun down and looked up. The man was large, large like he worked out frequently, but he seemed gentle. He had his hands out in front of him, palms up and took hesitant steps. "I just want to help you."

Alexander hiccuped and sniffled, wiping his nose with his shirt sleeve. "Who are you?" He asked, rising shakily to his feet. "Why would you help me?"

"My name is James Madison and I came a long way to help you. Well, I think it's you," He answered, pulling his phone out his back pocket and opened up his recent contacts. "Someone from this house called me earlier this week and hung up. I was worried."

Alexander narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't remember calling anyone this week. Better yet, not anyone I don't know." He backed up towards the front door. If it was necessary, he could run inside and call the police or his mother.

James frowned and held up his phone. "This isn't your number? Your friend over at the jewelry shop said it was." The boy stiffened and shook his head.

"No, no. That man is not my friend," Alexander growled, not even looking at the number and ignoring the assumption that it was his. His hand tightened on the gun in his hand.

"I get that. But this is you. You called me asking for help," James stated this like the fact he knew it was. He could hear it in the teen's voice. It was similar to the caller's minus the genuine distress and the fighting. The fighting...

"Were your parents fighting? Is that why you called someone?"

The boy slowly shook his head. "Mama and Papa love each other. They don't fight, okay? Just go back wherever you came from and leave me alone."

"You just killed someone, didn't you?" James accused, walking closer to the house. His eyes were focused on the gun and stayed there. "Is that why your scared?" The boy was shaking, and he didn't want the situation to get any worse than it already was. It was obvious the kid was distressed and teenagers tended to respond to their fight senses when distressed.

At least, that's what Dolley told him after she went through intense research to help them with their son's upcoming teenage years.

Thomas watched the scene with his hand on the door handle. Whatever James was saying, was not what the boy needed to hear right now. Something happened and it looked like it turned the boys life for the worst. He doesn't seem like the type to kill somebody but the gun and blood say otherwise. "What are you doing, James?"

The boy had his back turned to them but after James said something, he turned around. He was biting his lip, and he shook his head again. James said something else but louder this time.

"No, I didn't!" Alexander shouted. Honestly, this was not helping. He was terrified. He had a gun in his hand, a dying brother in the hospital, and this man was probably with the police and was going to arrest him from sight alone.

That was enough. The overwhelming worry for both his friend and the kid grew too much for Thomas to just sit there. He got out of the car and held out his hand, going straight for the teenager. "Come on, give me the gun," he barked. They needed to get the weapon out of his shaky little hands now before he fucked around accidentally shot them or himself.

Alexander flinched and almost dropped his weapon. There was someone in the car. The man didn't come here alone. Faster than he thought he could, Alexander pointed the gun again. "Who are you?"

Thomas didn't stop. "I'm from the bus stop remember. We talked and you have my umbrella. Right?" He was basically two feet in between James and the teen. He has to ask the kid his name later. This was just ridiculous. "Now, give me the gun before you kill somebody else."

"I didn't kill anyone."

"You have blood all over you."

"I didn't do it. This isn't my gun."

"Then you would have no problem turning on the safety and handing it over to me."

"You're gonna hurt me."

Thomas took a deep breath and smiled. "I didn't hurt you at the bus stop. I had every open opportunity but I didn't. Why would I hurt you now?"

"Because you think I killed someone." Alexander retorted.

"But you said you didn't so, I want to hear your alibi," Thomas said. He still had his hand out for the gun.

"You do?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to trust whatever you say as long as you have a loaded gun pointed at me and my friend."

That...that was a good point. Tilting the barrel towards the ground, Alexander clicked on the safety lock and handed it over to the man. Now that the weight was out of his hands, he felt somewhat better.

James made himself known again with a clearing of his throat. "Thank you, Thomas," He said. Thomas looked back at him and nodded, tucking the gun in his belt. "You're welcome. Next time don't throw heavy accusations at the person you're trying to help."

"Right, of course."

Alexander turned and walked back inside, holding the door open. "You, you guys can come in. I can, I can get something for you to eat or umm, drink, I guess," He stuttered. "If you anything at all."

The two Virginians looked at each other and nodded. James smiled and went inside. The house was somewhat big and was comfortable but had a lingering feeling of depression. "I'll take some water, please," he said, following the boy to the kitchen.

"So what happened here?" James asked, sitting down at the table. Thomas sat next to him while the boy was grabbing two glasses from the cabinets.

Alexander knew exactly what he was talking about but couldn't seem to calm down enough to actually answer. He opened the freezer and grabbed some ice out of the tray, dropping them in the glasses. He closed the freezer and gathered himself for a moment. "My brother got shot," he rushed, getting out while he could. Alexander grabbed a water bottle from the 24 pack sitting next to the refrigerator and poured half into one glass and the other in the opposite, handing them to the two men.

Thomas nodded and took a sip. "By whom?"

Alexander sat down across from them and kept his eyes on the table. "Ernesto, I think. He and a couple of his friends broke in," he answered, then quickly added, "They had the gun but I got a hold of it somehow. I didn't shoot anyone, I swear."

James frowned and continued drinking his water. He glanced in the living room and noticed beer bottles on the coffee table, but no broken windows. The door they came in was perfectly fine, hinges and all. "They broke in?" He questioned, doubt evident in his voice.

"Yes."

"They didn't have a key or anything?"

Alexander shook his head. "No, sir."

James lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. He drained half his glass and kept staring at the boy. After a few tense seconds, Thomas took the reigns and continued the 'conversation'. "How old you, kid?"

"I'm 17. I turn eighteen in a week," he responded, voice short. Alexander felt stuck, but he just had to carry this out until his parents got back. Did he even want them back?

"So you live with your parents -who are where?- and brother -who is how old-?" Thomas checked. The boy nodded.

"Out on a date and 21," Alexander gave. He started fidgeting and wanted to leave. Quickly, he added, "I didn't get to give you back your umbrella, did I?" Yes, successful convo switch.

Thomas blanked and made a noise in the back of his throat that he knew James was going to bully him for. "Huh? Oh um, yeah. Can I get it, you stay here?"

Alexander shot up and smiled. "No, no, it's fine. I can get it. You two are welcome to some more water if you want," he said. His voice cracked on water because honestly, who wants more water? Not that it's weird to want more water but it is kind of weird to offer people water in your house with no food to go with it.

With an awkward bow, the teen darted up the stairs and immediately stopped. There was blood soaked into the carpet, things were knocked over, and there was two good dents in the wall. His father was going to kick his ass when he got home.

James stood up and walked over to the kitchen counter. "Was that necessary?"

"The kid was terrified, James. It won't do us or him any good if he's scared," Thomas said, standing up as well. "But there's bullshit going on. He wouldn't be this upset if there wasn't anything wrong."

"Now, that may not be true," James interrupted. "His brother did get shot and his parents have yet to come home." He walked over onto the other side of the counter and grimaced. "Found your umbrella." Bending down, the shorter picked up and handed the magenta object to his friend.

Thomas nodded his thanks and wandered into the living room. It was messy. He knew James already noted the scattered bottles and headed towards the hallway opposite of the stairs. Hopefully, something will tell them what the boy isn't.

"I couldn't find it, I'm sorry," Alexander said, trailing off at the apology. He had switched his bloody shirt out for a soft black sweater too big for his body. It was his brother's, honey and milk tea scent imprinted on it. "Where's your friend?" He asked.

James had grabbed another water bottle and opened it just as the boy came downstairs. He pulled the plastic from his mouth and shrugged. "He tends to wander. Better to let him roam, or he gets too wound up," he answered. He kept his eyes on the boy and waited for him to make eye contact. Once he did, James tried so hard to show his concern.

"I'm really not here to hurt you in any way. If something is going on, I need you to tell me," he begged. He screwed the lid on and set it down on the table. The Virginian pulled out his phone again and showed the contact number. "Is this you?"

Alexander stared at it for a minute and nodded. "Yes. It is," he swallowed, voice quiet.

"Alright," James said softly. Just take it nice and easy. Be open-minded and patient. "What was going on?"

"It wasn't Mama and Papa fighting. It was James and Papa. James was freaking out again and Papa was just trying to calm him down."

"Again?" James asked. He needed the boy to elaborate.

Alexander sat down and began playing with the ends of the sleeves absentmindedly. "Sometimes, James gets angry or really upset out of nowhere, and we don't know why. Rarely, he gets violent. Papa had touched him and he flipped."

_ "Don't fucking touch me! I'm not Lex. I will knock you clean out!" James burst, shoving his father away from him. Alexander, who was on the couch with his mother, stood up and stepped forward. _

_ "Jamie?" He tried. "What's wrong?" _

_ His brother didn't answer and stayed put, breathing heavy and body shaking. Alexander could tell the next person that touched him was going to get hurt whether Junior meant to or not. The man was tense as a spring. Sadly, their father didn't know body language and grabbed him by the shoulders, causing junior to lash out and punch him in the nose and breaking it. _

_ The older man fell back onto the television stand, the TV falling back and the stand itself cracking but not yet breaking. His son didn't let up either. He kept swinging and stayed hunched over James, punching him any and everywhere. _

Alexander stopped with a shake of his head and bit his lip. "Mama told me to go call for help and I guess I was shaking too bad to pay attention to what I was doing. I don't want to talk about it anymore," he said, letting go of the sleeves.

"So you called me by accident."

"Yes."

James had finished off the last of his water and sat back down at the table. "That man, Ernesto, he told me something and I wanted you to confirm it for me," he eased.

Alexander looked up and frowned. "What?" He asked. He wasn't stupid, he had a bunch of what the man was getting at, but he hoped to every deity there was that it was something else.

In an unfortunate way, they had mercy on him. His parents came through the front door. His mother, dressed in a tight grey dress that he swore he'd never seen before, came in first and yanked him up front the table, not seeming to take notice of the stranger. "Alexander, hurry upstairs, baby," she urged, pushing him towards the stairs and the boy listened without hesitation.

"Ma'am is there a problem?" James asked, standing up quick and making his way to the woman. Rachel flinched and pressed her back to the wall. She seemed to be quick-witted the way she made an excuse.

"No, officer. We just got a call about our older son and my husband and I need to talk about it first before we did anything," Rachel dismissed. Honestly, if James had just gotten here himself or not have twelve years of experience tucked in his belt, he would have believed her.

A man appeared beside her and gave James a once-over. He looked very different from the boy so obviously the teen took on more from his mother. "Who are you?"

James plastered on a fake smile and held out his hand. "Officer Kennedy. I got a call about a shooting. My partner and I were watching over your boys until the ambulance came," he lied. This man didn't know who he was and James wanted to keep it this way.   
  
"Partner?" The woman questioned. Thomas cleared throat and everyone turned their heads back to the living room. The Virginian was standing there with a wide smile and gave a little wave.   
  
"Hello, I'm Officer Smith. Nice to make your acquaintance," he greeted, holding his hand out. The couple shook his hand.   
  
The wife smiled back and introduced herself in return. "I'm Rachel Hamilton and this is my husband, James. Thank you so much for making sure he was safe until we got home," Rachel said with genuine gratitude. 'I don't know what would have happened if I lost both of my boys tonight,' she thought.   
  
"How come I've never seen you before? I know just about everyone at the station," Mr. Hamilton said. It was easier to call him because there were too many James in this situation.   
  
"We're new," Thomas said, not missing a beat. "This is actually our first assignment." James nodded in agreement.   
  
"Oh okay. Was he behaving?" Mr. Hamilton asked. It hits James that this is the man who pimps out his son, or sons, for a mere buck. He was face to face with a true piece of shit. Never has his urge for violence spiked so high before in his life.   
  
"He was a perfect gentleman," James said, arms tense as he resisted beating the man to pulp. "A little shaken after tonight's events but was still stable enough to offer and serve us some water."   
  
The man hummed and nodded, mind obviously elsewhere. "That's our little star," he said, "Anyway, thank you again for staying with him and all, but we're here now. We'll talk to him and take him to see his brother in the morning. You can leave." With that he turned and made his way back to the front door and held it open.   
  
Thomas did not feel okay with leaving both the kid and his mother alone with this man. But, to keep up the new cop routine, he had to. "Okay, have a good night. I hope your boy comes out of this alright," he said, patting Rachel's arm gently. He gave her a quick pointed look and turned to leave, James following close behind.   
  
James watched the two new officers climb back into their car and drive off before he slammed the door shut. "Get your dumb ass down here, Alexander!" He shouted. Rachel frowned and pulled her hair down from the bun on top of her head.   
  
"Stay in your room, Baby!" She countered, hands fisting at her side. "James, can you please just let him be for tonight? His brother, our son, has been shot and admitted to the hospital within the four hours we've been out."   
  
Her husband advanced on her and glared. "Stay out of this, Rachel."   
  
Rachel didn't stop at the bun, she went on and took out her earrings and necklace. "No, I'm tired of this. He needs to calm down and be alone. With what happened tonight, he needs time to recover." She tossed it all on the couch and crossed her arms.   
  
"If you didn't fucking notice, it's his fault. He decided to be a spoiled little bitch and let his brother take the fall. I lost a lot of money with his stunt."   
  
"Are you serious? Only reason we keep losing and needing money is because you keep gambling it all away!"   
  
Alexander was crying into his hand with his back against the closed door. The screaming from downstairs had gotten louder and louder until someone, presumably his mother, stops responding altogether. He hears his father slam another door and call for him again.   
  
"Do not make me repeat myself, Alexander!"   
  
The teen sobbed quietly and stood up, opening the door.   
  
"Hurry it up, Boy!"   
  
Alexander ran down the stairs and stopped next to the couch. James Sr was pacing the living room, fists clenched and face red. "Entonces, primero me costó 200 dólares porque llegó tarde a la casa de un cliente," He was in pretty deep shit. His father only spoke Spanish when he was way too pissed.   
  
"Luego, cuando obtenga más clientes para compensar el dinero que perdiste, te escondes de ellos," James started pacing slower and it started to feel like Alexander was watching a hungry shark way too closely after eating a plate full of sushi.   
  
"Luego, cuando te encuentren, te escondes y peleas contra ellos, haciendo que disparen a tu hermano en el proceso," The man's voice thickened with anger as he continued. He was winding himself up on purpose and it was working a little too well. Suddenly, he had Alexander trapped between him and the wall while surrounding him with his arms.   
  
"How fucking selfish and dumb can you be?" James shouted, not caring if a little spit flew from his mouth or if the boy's ears rung from the volume. Alexander flinched and held back his tears. He couldn't start crying just yet. He had nothing to cry about. His father chuckled darkly and it took Alexander a moment to note that he was on the floor and that there was burning sensation in his cheek.   
  
James ran his hands through his hair, body buzzing with the feel of complete want to beat down on the teen. "Just like your fucking mother through and through," he whispered, more like he was talking to himself.   
  
"You cause me so many problems, I'm beginning to think you cost way more than you're worth."   
  
Alexander sat up then made this small movement as if he wanted to crawl toward the man but also wanted to put distance between them. "I wasn't- I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I promise," He whimpered.   
  
His father swallowed and flexed. "I don't your bullshit, Alexander." At this point, it was hard for the teen to not cry. He started sniffling as his eyes watered.   
  
"James just wanted-"  
  
"I don't give a shit about whatever the hell James wanted! You disobeyed me, you disrespected my clients, and you probably got your brother killed."  
  
The teenager stood up and moved back to the wall. "But they shot James! What was I supposed to do?"   
  
Moving back to wall proved to be a stupid one because James pressed the boy back up against it, eyes going wide and wild. It was like staring into the eyes of a bull gone mad and being the sole focus of its anger but the difference is a bull would leave you alone after a while.  
  
"Well you know what, James brought it upon himself. You were supposed to get the money," The man growled, finger jabbing hard between his son's ribs and too angry to enjoy the heavy squirming he got for the action.   
  
"I'm sorry," Alexander said, bursting out sobs. He pushed and shoved at his father's hand, the finger causing major pain to flare up through his entire left rib cage. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."   
  
"Sorry isn't going to get me my goddamn money, is it, Alexander?" The man let go and lifted the boy over his shoulder. Alexander immediately connected the dots and began screaming, kicking, and grabbing a hold of anything, hoping that by some miracle that it would save him. "Please, no. I'm sorry. Please don't take me back there. Please, I'll get you the money, just stop, please!"  


 

 

  
Rachel woke up to hear the loud screaming of her son and banging of a headboard against a wall. It was disgusting to know exactly what was going on. She hated not being able to do anything about it. She tasted the bile in her throat and ran to the bathroom, chucking up everything in her stomach into her sink and then hurling when the noises didn't stop but there was nothing left in her body left to give.    
  
She remembered the small slip of paper in her sleeve.    
  
Quickly rinsing the puke from her sink, Rachel ran to her phone, pulled out the paper and dialed the number. She prayed as the phone rung that the man would pick up. Who knows how early in the morning she was calling?    
  
Shakily sighing when she heard the click as the call connected. A groggy voice murmured something before addressing her. "Hello?"    
  
"Hello, Mr. Smith. It's me, Rachel Hamilton. I need your help."    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I make up for it good enough??
> 
> Also, I used Google translate because the person I usually check my languages left.


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied Incest/Rape, Threats, my basic sleep deprived conversations with my best friend

"I need your help."

Thomas was wide awake. Not waiting for a second, he picked up one of his pillows and threw it across the room, successfully hitting James and waking him up.

"I literally just fell asleep, Thomas. What is it?" The shorter man groaned. He sat up and turned the lamp between their beds on. He looked over to his friend and saw the man was chewing his lip with his phone to his ear. "Thomas, what's wrong?"

James didn't receive a response but Thomas did stand up and put the phone of speaker. "Ma'am, where did you say he'll be?" He asked, putting the device in James' hand. A scratchy voice burst through the phone and set them both into work.

"I said he should be at school but if he isn't, he'll most likely be at the hospital with me and his father."

Thomas slid on a pink button up and grabbed for his black pants. "Is there a specific time you want me to pick him up?"

"Before 2:30. Please."

James nodded and began getting dressed himself.

"Yes ma'am. Me and," Thomas looked at James pointedly and the other Virginian mouthed his fake name, "Kennedy will get Alexander and bring him to the station."

James glared as hard he could and flipped his friend off. There was no way in hell they were taking that boy to the police station. There were millions of reasons why and none of it looked good for either of them. They only had one more paid week left on the island and both of them would serve months in prison if they were caught. James doesn't do prison.

Seems like Rachel agreed.

"No, you can't take him there. Just let him stay with you for a few days while I figure something out. His cousin lives a good while away from here and I just need to set up an arrangement. I really need you to keep Alexander away from the police station."

Thomas frowned and sighed. "Yes ma'am."   
  
  
  


Alexander woke up with his entire body throbbing and his father pressed up against his back, arm wrapped around his waist. Reaching a hand down, the teen gripped James' wrist and tried to pry it off but it turns out he wasn't asleep.

"I see you've woken up, Alex," he whispered, tightening his hold on the boy. James ran his fingers over Alexander's stomach, pinching his pelvis and huffed in amusement when Alexander whimpered. "We're going to see your brother. Get up and get dressed." With that, James stood up, not even caring he was still naked, and went into the bathroom.

The room itself was warm with the stench of sex. It made Alexander want to throw up, but he didn't have anything to throw up. Slowly crawling out of the bed, the boy left the room and groaned softly from his beginning headache.

"Alexander?" His mother called out to him, hearing the groan from the living room. Guess he wasn't that quiet. She peeked her head into the hallway and frowned at the state of her baby. Snatching the blanket from over the couch, Rachel tiptoed quickly down the hall and wrapped Alexander in it. He smiled weakly and pressed a kiss to her cheek with a quiet thank you.

"I need you to go and wash up. I'll pull out my make-up kit alright," Rachel murmured, eyes flickered to the hallway. Alexander nodded and tiptoed up the stairs. He felt his muscles slowly grow tense with each step.

He went into his room and stared at the dried spot of blood next to the wall for a minute and licked his lips. His throat was dry and his eyes began burning, forcing his feet to move and going to their bathroom.

Alexander spent what was minutes that felt like seconds under a warm spray and hoped that his brother was okay. Anxiety seeped into his bloodstream and made him feel that the longer he spent here, the worse condition James was in. The subconscious paranoia fighting its way to the front of his mind served as an intense motivation for Alexander to hurry up.

He brushed his teeth quickly and dried his hair until it was just damp strands. Alexander got out and picked out a dark green tank top and a pair of jean shorts. It was hot and stuffy outside today according to Monday's forecast.

Rachel knocked on the door and waited for the soft 'come in' on the other side. She opened the door and smiled wide, shaking her makeup bag enthusiastically. "Time for us to get dolled up!"

Alexander smiled back and clapped. "Yay! Gotta keep those doctors interested," he said with a wink that was returned teasingly.

"That's right, Mijo! Got to bring honor to the family," Rachel chuckled. She sat down the bed next to her son and pulled out the concealer. "Okay, the worst of them are on your neck and cheek. You're good everywhere else."

Alexander nodded and let her get to work. He stared at his mother for a minute. She had one graze on her temple. That was the only physical evidence of what happened. She probably hid the rest with the long sleeves she was wearing. Otherwise, all of this, his mother was a beautiful woman with an illuminating personality. How did stuck in all of this?

"Ma?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Do you think," he stopped. There was a long pause and Rachel didn't stop working and not did she pressure him. Alexander would find the right words eventually. He always did.

"Am I beautiful? Like, do you think anyone will ever love me?"

That's when Rachel stopped and met her boy's eyes. The bruises were buried anyway. "Yes, you are beautiful. Alexander, you are the most gorgeous boy I have ever seen. Your eyes are the richest chocolates from the shiniest heart shaped box. Your hair? The softest silk woven by God himself, and your skin reminds me of the grains of sand that we used to roll around in. Remember those days?"

He nodded.

"Yeah...you used to dive right in the water and go as far as your body could take you until the lifeguard would go in and get you. Used to have me worried to death when you did that. As for someone loving you, there's always someone out there for you. They will love you so hard that your head will spin." Rachel leaned over and kissed Alexander on both cheeks. "You deserve so much more than what the world could ever give you, Alex. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Mama."

 

Half an hour later, three fourths of the Hamilton household got into the car and drove to the hospital. Alexander sat in the back and stared out the window. He watched the small ghetto grow into suburbs that grew into the city. The skies were bright today. Maybe that was a good sign. The family got to the hospital and were calmly instructed to where their missing piece was.

Alexander watched his brother from the foot of the hospital bed. James had only three tubes shoved into his body, a body wrap from his shoulder to his opposite side and a sling. The doctor said he would be fine and would wake up soon. After he was checked out from the hospital, he just needed plenty of rest, water, and practice a physical therapy routine at least an hour a day.

Junior woke up with a groan and squeezed his eyes tight. "Bright," he mumbled. Rachel gasped and grabbed onto Alexander's wrist. It took a minute for the twenty-one year-old to fully wake up. "What happened, Mama?" Junior asked with his brown eyes glazed from the drugs he'd been given.

Before she could open her mouth, James pinched her elbow and cut in. "You got shot trying to protect your brother, Mijo," he said. His voice was gentle although his face was anything but. Alexander recoiled and looked away.

"Alex! Is he okay?"

"Yes, yes. He is fine but do you see why I don't want you and your mother getting involved in our business?"

"But they were gonna-"

"You got hurt. You could've died, boy."

"...."

James clicked his tongue and ran his fingers through his eldest's chestnut hair. "I try my best to protect you but you're not making this easy, son. I'm going to go see the doctor and find out how much this is going to cost us, make sure they don't say anything to anyone."

"Yes, Papa."

The man stood up and walked out of the room, giving Alexander a sharp look and not quite slamming the door closed. Rachel sighed and patted the now vacant seat next to her. "Alexander, wanna sit?"

Not up for actually speaking, the teen moved to his brother's side and sat down. He grabbed his brother's hand and squeezed.

James hummed and squeezed back. "It's Friday. Shouldn't you be in school?"

"You're more important," Alexander replied softly.

"Opinion, not a fact." 

_"I got you, Lexi. It's gonna be okay."_

Alexander huffed and turned on the TV. "Shut up."  
James stuck out his tongue and turned to their mother, starting a conversation with her. It felt as if everything was fine.   
  
  


 

James clicked his tongue in shame and put on his shades. "I can't believe you are wearing that Thomas."

"If I want to look like a CSI character, James, I will. Hop off my dick," Thomas said, snapping his suspenders.

"There was no dick to hop on."

"I want a divorce."

"I want your eyebrows to grow back but here we are."

Thomas glared and resisted to touch his eyebrows. There was an incident on a case where the suspect was a pyromaniac. His eyebrows grew back but just not to their old bushy potential. He pouted and stomped his way to the car.

James smiled innocently and got behind the wheel. "I love you."

"I'll taze you in your ass."

"Then how will Santa give me my presents?"

Thomas rolled down the window and blasted the radio. He was never letting James watch vines again. He was also going to delete the man's Tumblr account.   
  
  


His brother had passed out an hour ago so that left Alexander and his mother to watch Family Feud alone. So far, Rachel was winning. The question was 'we asked 100 women, what is the one job you would trade with your husband?'

Number one was period cramps with number two being labor. Alexander was glad he was born with a penis with the way his mother growled the answers before they showed up on the board. "Ms. Hamilton?"

They both looked towards the door. A nurse stood there with an angry looking James standing behind him. Alexander frowned and glanced at his mother. "Ma?"

Rachel swallowed and stood up. "Stay here, Alexander," she whispered then turned to the two men at the door. "Something wrong?"

The nurse shook his head, glancing at Alexander, and jerked his head out into the hall. "Can I speak to you for a minute?"

"Of course."

As she stepped out, James stepped into the room as a replacement. Alexander felt himself shrink under the man's gaze. His father said nothing and sat down. He kept his eyes on the boy and slowly reached up and grabbed onto the ends of Alexander's hair. "You know that you don't deserve to be here," he commented, face calm and considering.

What?

"It's your fault, he's here."

Oh.

"Alexander?"

"Yes."

"I'm having Ernesto remove your stuff from James' room and put in your mother's," Alexander felt ice creep up his spine. "When we get home, I'm going to fucking beat your ass worse than ever before," was there such a thing? "and I'm taking you out of school. You're not going to do anything in life except laying on your back."

Alexander felt himself lurch over the throw up before his brain actually recognized what was happening.

The nurse sighed and rolled his shoulders. As if mentally preparing himself as if he's about to tell her she had three months to live. "There're two men here named Randolph Smith and Adam Kennedy asking to see your son. I told your husband about them, but he insisted he didn't know them. Did you, by any chance," the nurse said but was cut off.

"Yes. I called them."

"How come your husband-"

"He wasn't around when they were asking about the incident revolving James," she excused. She felt nervous. They actually came?

"Tell them I'll send Alexander right down, please?" Rachel asked. The nurse nodded and headed down the hall.   
  


 

 

Thomas flipped the quarter around relentlessly, a small smile clawing at his lips as two small children in the waiting room awed at his antics. The adults were laughing to themselves and gave soft applause when Thomas did a particularly good trick. He understood seals now.

He felt James burning a hole in the side of his head and quickened his pace. Soon enough, James snatched the coin out of the air and an old man in the corner cheered as the children groaned.

Thomas turned to the man and frowned. "Adam.."

"With every click of that coin, my anxiety worsened."

"Let me live, James."

"Suffer in silence."

Before Thomas could continue, the door opened again and the same nurse from earlier came through and told them Alexander would be there soon. The Virginians stood up and exited the waiting room.

Thomas was excited but worried. When he slipped his number into Rachel's hand, he hadn't thought she would need to use it so soon. He had stumbled across a bedroom in the back where there was a trashcan full of condoms and empty lube bottles. He went further in the room and found the bathroom trash can full of dirty gauze and alcohol wipes.

He looked for a pen and a shred of paper immediately.

The woman seemed to have an intense loyalty to her family but for her to jump for Thomas first chance she gets? Something darker is going down than just what they already know. 


End file.
